Dress You Up
by SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot
Summary: anon prompted: imagine kurt and blaine are going out (lets just say to one of kurt's work parties) and kurt LOVES blaine in this particular black shirt so he always tries to get blaine to wear it to functions (or whatevs) because his husband looks so dang sexy in it uwu


**Slowly but surely working through all my prompts from Tumblr!**

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_Okay, Kurt, just stay calm. You're an actor for a reason, you know._

"Babe? Why are my clothes lying on the bed?" Blaine asked, appearing from their en-suite bathroom with wet, tousled hair and a towel slung around his waist. "You wanna borrow them or something?"

"What? Oh my God, no," Kurt said, crinkling his nose in distaste. "They're for you to wear tonight, silly."

_Don't question it, just go with it, c'mon…._

"But you let me pick my own wardrobe years ago," Blaine said, brows furrowing in confusion.

"I stopped giving you _advice_, B," Kurt interjected. "I always let you pick your own clothes."

"I seem to remember being told you wouldn't kiss me good night if I didn't wear a particular bow tie to go with your ascot at your high school graduation party, but whatever you say, darling," Blaine said with a smirk.

Kurt stuck his nose in the air and huffed.

"Fine, fine, you decided my fashion sense didn't need any more helpful hints," Blaine said, leaning over the bed to kiss Kurt on the forehead quickly. "My point still stands, though: I got free range over my closet ages ago."

"But the party we're going to tonight has a theme," Kurt said, crossing the fingers of his left hand behind his back and hoping his mental wince didn't show on his face. _That's really the best you could do, Kurt?_

"Oh, it does? What's the theme?" Blaine asked, genuinely curious.

"Primary colors," Kurt answered in a rush, glancing at the (tight, so tight and soft) black shirt and red pants he'd laid on Blaine's side of the bed and going with the first answer that came to mind.

"Wouldn't a yellow or blue shirt be more appropriate, then?" Blaine said, cocking his head as he took in the outfit. "I mean, black's not really a primary color, though it's not really a secondary color, either."

"Um." Kurt bit his lip, thinking frantically.

"And you're wearing lavender and green, Kurt, neither of those are primary. Unless one person goes in primary colors and their date goes in secondary? Is that it?"

_Well, fuck._

"Okay, I lied!" Kurt said, twisting to land face first in his pillows with a _flump._ "There's not a theme."

"Wh-"

"But you still have to wear that outfit!" Kurt rolled onto his side and gave Blaine his best pleading look.

"I'd planned on wearing my new cardigan, though," Blaine said, looking a little disappointed. 'I've been saving it especially for this party, so I'd have something nice."

Kurt just kept pouting at Blaine.

"Babe, I've worn this shirt to the last four of your monthly NYADA reunion karaoke nights," Blaine said. "Your friends are gonna think I don't own any other clothes."

"You have not!" Kurt said, thinking back on the past months and realizing. "You wore that blazer - no, wait, that was to Rachel's opening. Maybe you have worn it to every party, but - but so what?"

"So what?" Blaine repeated, amused. "Kurt Anderson-Hummel, the man who won't wear an _accessory _more than once every two weeks, is telling me to wear the same shirt to an event for almost half a year?"

"I just - um - it's because-"

"Because you want to jump me every time I wear it?" Blaine had a knowing smile on his face that got Kurt equally aroused and annoyed.

"No!"

"Kurt."

"Fine, yes, okay," Kurt grumbled. "So sue me for thinking my husband looks hot in a particular shirt."

"You know I love those gray jeans of yours, honey, I'm not judging you," Blaine said, swiping his clothes out of the way and sitting down on the bed next to Kurt. "I don't really get why _this _shirt is the one that does it for you, but still. This is a judgment-free bed."

"It had better be, after we tried-"

Blaine coughed, turning a light red. "So anyways, why this shirt?"

"I can't believe you can't even talk about that night when I was the one who was-"

Blaine cleared his throat even louder and flushed more.

Kurt took pity on Blaine's poor vocal cords. "It's the way that shirt fits your chest, okay? And your arms, oh my God."

"Is it really that nice?" Blaine asked, absentmindedly smoothing the collar of the short sleeved black button-down.

"Dana had to keep me from attacking a guy at the bar last month who made a remark about licking off the body paint that that shirt was so clearly made of, if that's any indication," Kurt said, feeling himself start to match Blaine's blush.

"So that's why you started grinding on me out of nowhere," Blaine said, looking like the metaphorical lightbulb had just flicked on over his head. "I thought you were just really, _really _drunk."

"Well, I mean, I wasn't sober, but you'd already crooned Michael Buble songs at me that night before someone tried to hit on you," Kurt said, flushing darker. "I can't be held responsible for my actions after all of that, B."

"Good to know," Blaine teased. "That gives me some ideas…."

"Blaine, if you ever want me to wear those gray jeans again, you'll keep those ideas to yourself."

"Yes, dear."

"But wear whatever you want tonight. You may have a point about that shirt."

"Maybe I'll use it as a pajama top tonight."

Kurt would never own up to the hybrid whimper-groan he released at that moment. He had to retain a _little _pride.


End file.
